


TRANSfiguration!

by Balloon_ROYALTY



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, In-character transphobia, LGBTQ Characters, Misgendering, Muggle-born, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Transgender, Warnings May Change, ask to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 00:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18789709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balloon_ROYALTY/pseuds/Balloon_ROYALTY
Summary: My name is Yennae Lane, and I'm an eleven year old girl. There's nothing really strange about me- even if my parents think so.~~~*I'm writing this fanfic about a transgender witch going to Hogwarts, specifically to spite J. K. Rowling.





	TRANSfiguration!

My name is Yennae Lane, and I'm an eleven year old girl. There's nothing really strange about me- even if my parents think so.  
  
They tell me the weirdest things. My mum said when I was younger, and infatuated with the colour, I managed to change my hair to pink for the day. I was too young to remember, but until now, I always figured it was just one of those weird lies parents tell their children to fill them with a casual feeling of existential dread.  
  
Mum tells me a lot of things that aren't true, so I had good reason to think that.  
  
Until today.  
  
It had been a normal Sunday morning. Mum was out getting the paper, and Dad was preparing toast for breakfast. I was doing my homework, hoping to get it done before the holidays ended and I had to hand it all in, after I'd been neglecting it all summer.  
  
I heard Mum's keys in the door and tensed up, getting ready to avoid confrontation, only to hear someone else stop her just outside.  
  
I didn't know who it was, and the voice didn't sound familiar, so I really shouldn't have paid it any mind.  
  
_But I did._  
  
I was so curious, for some reason, that despite my intimidation, I crept closer to the front door to listen.  
  
I could hear someone murmuring about me. I could hear the customer service smile in their voice that I knew everyone had to put on when speaking to my mum.  
  
She was the kind of person who would demand to see the manager, even when speaking to the company executive.  
  
I was so caught off-guard by them asking to come in that I didn't have time to step back far from the door, and ended up lingering in the hall awkwardly as the odd stranger entered behind my mum.  
  
Mum beamed, the light shining off her white teeth. I always thought she looked like an ad from the fifties, if people in ads from the fifties weren't all white.  
  
"Micheal!" She exclaimed, her voice that doting tone that parents take on when they project onto their child. "This nice man was just looking for you! He said he's a talent scout for a special school- and he's scouted you!"  
  
I didn't like the way she looked at me. She was too prideful- and besides, I didn't know which 'talent' she meant.  
  
She always told me how amazing I was at everything. Apparently, at three years old, I was the best artist she had ever seen, and anyone to disagree was a terrible person. At four, I was the best at baseball, despite the fact that I had, not once, hit the ball. At five, the best mathematician, and at seven, a real gentleman.  
  
I stopped taking her seriously somewhere around five.  
  
My dad looked up from his phone, briefly, before he went back to reading his article.  
  
I gave the man a curious look regardless of my doubt, gesturing toward the living room silently.  
  
Mum hummed happily as she passed me as well. "What a little gentleman~!" She hummed. Of course she thought so- she always did, if I did what she said. I had to struggle not to roll my eyes, closing the door behind us all.  
  
I patted the couch for the odd man to sit down, since Mum seemed perfectly fine with inviting this complete stranger into our home. She did the strangest things, but this was out of character, even for her.  
  
I wondered what he'd told her.  
  
He sat down, and I did too, on the large armchair opposite the couch.  
  
My mum sat down on the other armchair, leaving him on the couch alone. The large space fit him- he felt as though he had a presence that filled the entire room.  
  
He leaned forward, clasping his hands together with the same awkward grin he'd had this whole time.  
  
"Now, Micheal Lane..." He began, pausing. "I've got something for you here."  
  
It took him a while to rummage through the odd bag he was holding. I didn't see how- the bag looked so small, finding things couldn't have been a problem.  
  
He soon pulled out an odd letter, addressed in ink and sealed with red wax. He passed it to me, and I paused, taking a moment to turn it over.  
  
There was a swelling feeling inside me at the thought of actually getting a letter. Kids never get letters, what was this? Sure, it was addressed all wrong, and I got it from a weird stranger that I just met, but it was mine and mine alone.  
  
The writing was strange. It was fancier than I'd seen in a long time, and looked to be hand-written.  
  
_Mr. M. Lane_  
_The Third Bedroom,_  
 _408 Oliver Rd,_  
 _Cowley,_  
 _Oxford._

I gave the man a hesitant look, turning it over to take a closer look at the seal. It had some kind of crest on it and above it, but I was too occupied with what was inside to care any more about the envelope.  
  
I pulled it open, hearing the satisfying _tac_ of wax coming off paper. It took me a moment to get the letter out, but I carefully unfolded it, not wanting to leave a single crease.  
  
For whatever reason, this felt like a momentous occasion.  
  
The contents of the letter shocked me more than the outside, as fine as that had looked.

_**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY** _

The letter declared in its opening line, making me stop for a moment.  
Witchcraft and Wizardry? I squinted at the man, wondering if I'd lost my mind, or if he was pulling my leg.  
  
I carried on. Reading more couldn't hurt.  
  
_**HEADMISTRESS: MINERVA MCGONAGALL**_  
 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Animagus)_  
  
_Dear Mr Lane,_  
  
_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._  
  
_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._  
  
_Yours sincerely,_  
 **  
Filius Flitwick  
Deputy Headmaster**

I had to take a moment after reading, only continuing to glare at the man.  
  
What had I just been made to read?  
"... Is this a joke?" I asked, hunching my shoulders. He shook his head.  
  
"Could you pass that to your mother?"  
  
I reluctantly complied. She looked... relaxed, upon reading it through, nodding. "I always knew he was special."  
  
I flinched, not sure how my mum could possibly believe this... this.... hogwash.  
  
The man turned to Mum with a nod and a smile. "Now, I've got a few things to go over with you and your husband."  
  
Mum nodded, glancing to me.  
  
"Micheal. Wait for me in your room, alright? You'll be alright on your own, won't you?"  
  
Her tone was sickeningly sweet. I nodded, standing up from my chair and taking the letter back carefully as she passed it to me, struggling not to stomp back up the stairs.  
  
This was why I liked to avoid her. At least Dad didn't seem to talk much. Or care much.  
  
So here I am now, in my room, pressing my ear against the floor with a letter from a supposed school of magic clasped in my hand. Today has been frustrating, and I only have one thing to say.  
  
I'll repeat it to myself, and to anyone who listens.  
  
My name is **Yennae** Lane, and I'm a perfectly normal eleven year old **girl**.  
  
... Still, I can't lie- the idea of a world filled with magic is kind of exciting.

 


End file.
